


Twenty-Two

by andrasste



Series: Tumblr Prompts and Tidbits [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Genevieve Trevelyan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasste/pseuds/andrasste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-Two

She was bent over the War Table, pointing out location of some old ruins in the Emerald Graves, when she noticed him doing it again. She felt his gaze heavily, grazing over her neck, her shoulders, never landing anywhere for very long before it skittered off. 

Trevelyan rolled her shoulders, straightening again. His eyes on her are far from unwelcome, but she wishes he would do something, give some indication that he isn’t only entertaining idle fancies. 

She takes her turn when he begins moving markers around, pointing out where he’s sent his troops in the time she’s been gone, where they’ve quelled Venetori attacks or held back Red Templars. Her gaze wanders over his cheekbone, the scar splitting his upper lip as he speaks, trailing down to the furs over his shoulders.

The Commander of the Inquisition cuts an imposing figure, always grim-faced and professional, but she’d seen him smile at memories of his childhood, revel in his victory over her in chess. She was no longer fooled by his exterior, hard as the plate over his chest. His lingering glances only reinforced what she knew to be true. 

When Trevelyan dismisses the council, she asks that Cullen remain behind. She stands with her arms crossed over her chest until the door shuts firmly behind Leliana and Josephine, waits until their footsteps fade and Cullen is looking at her expectantly to speak. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” she says, fighting the smirk threatening to overtake her. 

An appealing blush blooms high on his cheekbones, and he immediately drops his gaze, raises one hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I-I have no idea what you mean, Inquisitor.” 

There it is, the break in his professionalism. Trevelyan walks around the table, arms still crossed, and rests her hip against it just next to where he stands. “Oh?” She asks, smirking up at him. He’s so bloody tall, so large in all of his layers, and she takes a small breath, suddenly overcome with nerves. “I’ve only noticed because I find myself doing the same.” 

Cullen glances away from her, and his eyes close for a moment; she can’t tear her eyes from his face, heart thundering in her chest at her own admission. She’d imagined this going differently, somehow.

“Oh, I-,” he sighs, opens his eyes again and looks over at her. “There are some who would deem these flirtations… ill-advised.” 

Trevelyan raises a brow at him. “And you?” 

A wry smile stretches the scar on his lip. “I hadn’t dared to hope.” 

She lets out a breath on a nervous laugh, all of her bravado momentarily fled. She braces one hand on the War Table and reaches for his arm with the other, touching the plate of his bracer lightly. “I hardly care what others find inappropriate. Surely you know this by now.” 

This draws a laugh from him. “I’ve been made aware, yes.” He turns to her fully, a smirk pulling at his scar, and she’s never seen that particular look before. She’s drawn to the motion, eyes fixed to his mouth. “I’ve imagined this,” he says softly. He reaches out, the leather of his gloves sliding over her cheek, hesitant in his touch. 

Trevelyan leans into him, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I’ve imagined much more,” she replies, voice lowered, and he coughs, surprised even now by her brashness. 

“Trevelyan,” he says, almost exasperated, though he still smiles. 

“Hush,” she rises to the tips of her toes, hands brushing through the fur at his shoulders. She’s wanted to touch it since the first time she saw him at the Temple. The strands of it are soft under her hands, and she sighs happily, raises her eyes to his face to find him watching her, fondly puzzled. “We have work to do, Cullen. We shouldn’t be distracted from it.” 

“No,” he agrees, but he doesn’t move away, leans closer and holds her gaze until it’s impossible, too close to her, and he can feel her breath puffing out against his chin. 

Trevelyan stretches up, legs quaking at the strain, but she hardly feels it as she presses her lips to his, a small sound clawing its way out of her throat when he closes his arms around her waist, hauling her closer and kissing her properly.


End file.
